Resolution
by Tubular Fox
Summary: Because she had seen it coming, hadn't she? Sequel to Emotion. Spock/Kirk, Spock/Uhura


This is the third installment of my Star Trek series of oneshots. This time, it's from Uhura's POV.

Disclaimer: Star Trek belongs to JJ Abrahms and Gene Roddenberry.

* * *

The rain fell steadily, beating a constant pattern onto the roof above her. It shouldn't bother her, she told herself, him not being there.

After all, she'd seen it coming, hadn't she?

It was no secret to her that he didn't love her. She had known from the beginning, the very second her took her hand, that it wasn't _her_ he'd been thinking of.

Someone else's face.

Someone else's hand.

…Someone else's love.

Maybe she'd hoped he'd come around?

Uhura sighed and shut her eyes, pressing her forehead against the door he had left through not five minutes ago. She had always wondered who the other person was, the person who had such a hold on Spock's heart.

Captain James T. Kirk.

A dynamic individual. It made no sense to Uhura, but at the same time it was quite believable and understandable. Kirk was irrational, a perfect example of illogic personified.

Maybe it _did_ make sense that they had been in love.

Squeezing her eyes shut tightly, Uhura fought off the hot sting of tears rising behind the closed lids. Her breath came in constricted gasps, but she wasn't sad. Couldn't be sad.

Because she had seen it coming.

The single coat left on the rack was removed and wrapped around her. Each light switch was systematically flipped until all the house was dark. The soft music was turned off.

The door opened.

She couldn't stay here. Not now, at least. Of course she'd come back later; to stay out in the rain all night wasn't practical. She just needed…air.

She needed to find Spock.

She wasn't going to make him come back. She had seen the determination in his eyes when he had left, knew there was nothing she could say that would have any effect.

She was going to tell him it was all right.

She couldn't say she understood—she didn't, not fully—but she had to tell him it was all right, that it was okay.

Then maybe, just maybe, she'd believe it herself.

Her steps rang out on the pavement, a tattoo that accompanied the patter of the storm as she listened for the presence of anyone else. For a long time, all she heard was her own footfalls.

Her own heart beating.

Was she surprised that it still was?

Then, up ahead, the sound of voices. Quiet whispers mixed in and punctuated with shouts. All of a sudden, silence.

She walked faster.

Before her, two figures stood silhouetted under a streetlamp. The shorter figure—the captain, she knew—had his back to Spock. Spock had his hands on Jim's stiff shoulders.

It was silent but for the rain.

The sight in front of her made her stop walking. It was so quiet that she couldn't help but overhear Spock's next soft words.

"Jim, I love you."

She froze. The words had the opposite effect on the captain. His shoulders slumped, and he seemed to Uhura to lean back into Spock's touch.

Then he turned.

The lamplight threw his face into focus, and even from the distance at which she stood, Uhura could clearly read the emotion shining in his eyes.

Love.

Undoubtedly, Spock's were the same.

Her throat closed up as she watched the Vulcan lean down to press his forehead against the captain's. Jim closed his eyes, a light smile gracing his face.

"Spock," he sighed, happiness plain.

Their fingers entwined slowly.

She felt like she was intruding. She didn't belong here, watching this. It wasn't her place. But she couldn't move.

Couldn't tear her eyes away.

The sudden ring of thunder broke the spell. Quickly, stiffly, she turned away from them to face the empty street just as Jim looked up at the sky, seeming to realize that it was raining for the first time. He took Spock's hand and tugged him off down the road in the opposite direction.

They were in love, she realized. They _are_ in love. They are happy.

And she wasn't sad anymore.

Quietly, she began to walk, distancing herself from the world they had created for themselves.

She didn't stop until she'd reached the front door.

The knob was cold in her hand, the house dark before her. She cast one glance over her shoulder, gazing through the rain up the way she'd come.

"Spock," she whispered, "it's okay. I understand. It's all right."

And it was.

She went inside.

* * *

There, all done. This is the last installment (unless I feel like writing more later, but it seems unlikely), and I wanted to end it on a happy note. ...Okay, well...it's not _sad_. I felt really bad for Uhura when I was writing this, though. Even though I don't like Spock/Uhura, I still like Uhura.

Originally it had been my plan to write one about Uhura and _then_ write the reunion fic, but my sister had this great idea to write Uhura's reaction to it. So I did. I like how it came out.

Please review!


End file.
